No Record of Wrong
by tracyh
Summary: My continuation of 5.17. What happens next?


**No Record Of Wrong**

**A/N So, hands up anyone who couldn't see Derek's rant coming a mile off? The final Meredith and Derek scene of 5.17 was somewhat inevitable to me. Derek does lash out, he always has. It's what happens now that interests me, how Meredith deals with it and how Derek responds to that. Just as a thought though, personally I think after Mark's attitude in 5.17, where the man is paddling in a certain Egyptian river, Derek should have taken the baseball bat to him rather than Meredith's ring! What an idiot!**

**Anyway, to the point. What happens next? Here's my take. Apologies once more for the continued wait for Just One Second. It will happen, really, but I am not well again (the dreaded laryngitis has come back, grrr!) and I'm not up to doing anything too complicated. This is really just an exercise in getting those final scenes between Meredith and Derek out of my system.**

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own it.

_Quote: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrong._

_Source: The New Testament, Paul's 1__st__ letter to the Corinthians, chapter 13, New International Version._

He didn't mean it. He's drunk and angry. He's lashing out. It's what you do when you love someone. You lash out at the safest target, knowing that they'll still be there. Derek knows, whatever he says to me, whatever he does, I'm not budging, not anymore, so he says things to me. It's his way of dealing with things. I use tequila when things get tough. Derek uses his words. He's done it before; when he thought I'd slept with Finn he called me a whore. On that ridiculous prom night he made it sound like he didn't want to feel anything for me, as if he couldn't help himself and I was making him not want Addison. When it looked like the clinical trial was going to end in nothing but a string of dead patients he said he didn't want to work with me, or talk to me. He said we kill people together. In comparison, being called a lemon, by implication a dud, useless, something no good to anyone, doesn't mean anything. It's effectively what my mother said about me for years, so you could say it doesn't touch me, not anymore. Not since the counselling where I realised that my mother didn't really mean to kill herself, or since I bought a whole candle store's supply of tea lights and built Derek a plan of our future. The point is, Derek didn't mean it, so though I stood my ground and argued back, for all the notice he was taking, I won't get mad at him and I won't leave.

It's not his words that get to me; I can brush that off without a second thought. No, what gets to me is the ring. It's the way he gets it out of his pocket as if he's done it a thousand times, like a habit. Even as drunk as he is he gets the ring box out of his pocket without a struggle. It's like he's memorised where it is and stamped the information on his brain, or somewhere that even the amount of alcohol he's drunk can't reach.

The Chief said he's been carrying the ring around with him for weeks. It seems weird that the Chief knows more about this than I do, but it tells me something. It tells me Derek has been waiting for me. The Derek from before would have got the ring. He would have presented it to me with a flourish, all perfect hair, shining eyes and beautiful words, and then he would have asked me, no, he would have practically told me, to marry him. When I took a second, or a minute, an hour, or even a freakin' Millennia or two to think about it, he would put on his best wounded look, the one that makes him look as if someone, usually me, has kicked his pet puppy and we would have been over…._again_.

I'd be lying if I said that when the Chief told me about the ring I wasn't scared. Of course I was scared. It wasn't the sort of scared that would have had me running, not like before. It was the 'Oh my God, there's a ring' sort of scared; the sort of scared people feel when they know someone wants them that much. It's the sort of scared people feel when they realise how huge something is. It passes. Derek's been waiting for me. He hasn't manoeuvred or pushed, he's just waited. I know what to do next. The Chief said it. Derek doesn't want to be left alone, so I'm going to make sure he's not.

When I get to the house I expect to find Derek on the couch, perhaps sleeping off another round of scotch or beer, or if things were really tough, my tequila. When I spoke to him after the deposition I knew it was bad. The pile of dead patient files would be enough to shake any surgeon. I tried to tell him, make him see that he takes on the most difficult cases, people who've come to him as their last hope, that's why he has high death rates and it isn't his fault. Then there's the clinical trial and all the deaths from that. Jen is the final straw for him. He made a mistake and she died. Her husband called Derek a murderer. It's no wonder he wants to hide, but I know exactly where he is.

I find him smacking a line up of empty beer cans with a baseball bat. I don't need to ask where all the beer is, he reeks of it. The other thing I smell is anger. It seems to be leaking from his pores. I deliberately keep my tone light when I speak, not because I'm scared, I know I don't have to be scared of Derek, he wouldn't hurt me, not like that, but because I don't want to make it sound like I'm accusing him of anything. He doesn't need that, not now.

All his words come out, a torrent of things he doesn't mean. Derek can be cruel, he believes in the 'you hurt me so I'll hurt you back' approach, even if he would never admit it, but I know he doesn't mean what he's saying to me. I know what he's trying to do. He's trying to push me away. Derek knows me, he knows the flaws, the weaknesses, so he knows what to use. He thinks if he just pushes enough I'll go. The irony is that he would have been right before I had counselling. Before, I would have thought every cruel thing he said was true, that I did write the books on running, hiding and being scared of commitment. Now I know it's not true, so I stand my ground.

It's only when I tell him I know about the ring that he stops. Just for a second he seems to have had the wind knocked out of him. He looks more like himself, just for a moment he looks like my Derek. Then, as quickly as he appears, he's gone. He stares down at his feet as if he's considering what to do next, then I hear 'Do you want the ring?' There's something in his voice, something antagonistic, sarcastic. He gets the ring out of the box. It's beautiful, a simple gold band with a diamond that catches the light when he holds it up. I want to speak but the words won't come.

The next thing I hear is 'Here's your ring.' Before I know what's happened Derek throws it in the air and smacks it as hard as he can into the night. The effort he puts in to it draws a grunt from his throat. It's this that cuts me. I feel the tears in the back of my throat, but they don't have time to fall. Before I can react Derek is turning away from me back to the trailer. He throws the baseball bat down. It almost hits me and I wonder for a second what he would have done if it had. I don't get time to wonder long before I hear the trailer door slamming and Derek yelling at me to go home from behind it.

Once Derek is back in the trailer I turn and walk back to my car. In the past I know I would have got in and left. I would probably have ended up at Joe's, or maybe Cristina's. Now something stops me. I get as far as getting in the car and gripping the steering wheel to try and stop my hands from shaking. The ring goes through my mind again. _Your ring_, he'd called it. _Your ring_, as if it was already mine; as if it was meant for me. A wave of nausea catches me when I think about the venom Derek put in to smacking it with the baseball bat, like it was nothing, like it meant nothing. I look out across his land to the place where I stood weeks ago and built a house of candles. I take a deep breath, steadying my rolling stomach. I make a decision. I'm not quitting.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning I'm woken by a high pitched screech. I jump, half open my eyes and reach out for the alarm only to realise it isn't there. I remember where I am, I slept in the car all night on Derek's land. It must have been a bird that woke me. I open my eyes the rest of the way and see the sunrise over the city. The oranges and yellows all run together in a stream of golden light. It's an amazing sight, the view Derek and I will wake up to every morning from our house. It doesn't occur to me to forget any idea of that. Instead, it steels me even more. I want the house, the ring, all of it. I'm not giving in. I've worked too damned hard to get to this, to wanting things, to believing I could have them. I'm not giving up.

I look towards the trailer, feeling a crick in my neck as I move. It reminds me that cars are not really designed to be slept in, not all night. I decide that I'll get out of the car in a second, just to stretch, get rid of all the muscle tightness being in a cramped space all night brings. Before I do I glance towards the trailer again. Derek must still be inside, sleeping off some of the alcohol. There are no signs of life other than the baseball bat on the ground and the odd can he must have overlooked.

When I finally get out of the car I feel about ninety years old. All my muscles ache, as if I've been doing something energetic. I take a few careful steps just to stretch out and slowly rotate my neck so it'll turn without sending a wave of pain through me I can feel all the way to my toe-nails.

It takes a couple of minutes before I can move more freely, but when I do I'm drawn again to the view of the city from the land. It's amazing really, how close we are to the city, the noise, the traffic, all the people, but up here it all feels like a long way away. Up here it's peaceful; it's a great place to take stock, to think. It's a great place to run to, to hide in.

The peace gives me a moment to think. I really did think I was helping Derek, giving him space and time. I really thought that once he realised he wasn't responsible for Jen's death, not deliberately, he would be fine. Now I'm beginning to think that maybe I should have pushed him more, maybe I should have said something earlier. I know now that taking him home after his fight with Mark and sharing a bottle of tequila with him was probably not the best way to deal with this. I thought I was helping him, showing him I was there for him, letting him drink to block the pain out, just for a while. Now I think I should have talked to him, yelled at him if I had to. The stupid thing is that since we got back together we've talked, really talked, but the minute it goes wrong again I open a bottle of tequila and let him stop talking, until last night that is, when he found a lot to say. Still, I remind myself, that first night what was there to say? Nothing I could have said would have made any difference, not then. It's how we deal with now that matters.

I'm still thinking over everything when I hear the squeak of door hinges. I don't have to turn round to know what it is. As if to confirm it I hear footsteps on the wooden decking. They are slow, careful, a little unsteady, not at all like the sure, certain steps I'm used to. It's as if every step he takes is an effort. I want to turn round and face him but suddenly it's as if my feet have become rooted to the ground. I stand with my back to him, looking out across the city. I listen to him coming down the steps from the trailer. I sense rather than see his eyes on me. I hear him coming closer until he's standing about a foot away from me. He's so close I hear him inhale. It's the hair then. I take that as a good sign.

"Meredith."

I'm surprised when Derek speaks first. He sounds tired, worn out. The word comes out on a sigh. It's not the caress he usually gives my name, he sounds too exhausted for that. Still, he sounds sober. It's another good sign. I don't reply and I don't turn around. I wait.

"How long have you been here?" He asks the question softly.

For a second I think he's testing me, waiting to see if I left at all, showed any sign of walking away, before he goes in for the kill again. Then I feel his eyes on me, looking me up and down. I get it. He's suddenly realised I'm wearing the same clothes I arrived in last night. I hear his breath hitch.

'Oh...._Oh_." A groan shudders out of him. It's like he's in pain. It's enough to make me turn around. I face him and I'm shocked by what I see. He looks like he's been working heavy shifts for about a month. His eyes are heavy, surrounded by dark black shadows that have nothing to do with the angry red scar over his nose. His hair is all over the place, standing on end. It looks three times too big for the size of his head, like a big black bush. I watch his jaw come together a couple of times. I can't hear it but I'm sure he's grinding his teeth. I look at the rest of him and wonder how he got into this state without me noticing. He seems to have shrunk. Whereas he used to seem to tower over me, it's suddenly as if he's lost some of his height, or is it because of how tired he looks? Is he too exhausted even to stand up properly, or does he feel that he can't stand up tall at the moment, he doesn't deserve to? I take in his clothes. Like me, he hasn't changed from the previous night. Judging by how wrinkled they are he appears to have slept in them, for a while at least. I look at him and see how his clothes are hanging from him. I know he's lean, but suddenly, to me, Derek is wiry. He is all arms and legs. He is lanky. The sight of him scares me. I want to reach for him, hold him, but before I can process the thought of moving he's speaking again.

"You shouldn't be here." His voice is flat, without any feeling at all. It shocks me, makes me look at his face, into his eyes. He immediately looks away, he stares down at his feet, just the same as he did last night when I told him I knew about the ring. Without thinking about it I shake my head. He's still trying to push me away. The thought ignites something in me.

"Well I am, so deal with it." I don't yell, but the words are enough to make him look at me again. He winces. He's hung over. It makes me want to hold him again. I don't. I have more to say. "I slept in the freakin' car Derek, in the car, so I don't care what you say, or what you do, or whatever, I'm staying."

By the time I finish Derek is staring at me, looking at me as if he's never seen me before. His jaw drops a little. He seems more awake than I've seen him look for days. Then, as fast as I notice the change, he pulls the shutters down again. He's gone. He's still standing there in front of me but he's gone. His head goes down again, looking at the ground rather than me.

"You shouldn't want to be with me, I kill things, I'm a murderer."

He doesn't raise his voice. I almost have to strain to catch what he says. His words come out in a steely whisper, all hard edged and guilt ridden. I can't stand it.

"You made a mistake Derek. You made a mistake, but you tried to fix it and...."

"I killed her. She trusted me and I killed her."

The expression on his face is unbearable. He looks lost. Alone. Derek doesn't need a lawsuit or the hospital board to pass down judgement on him. He's doing it enough to himself, and the verdict is unanimous. Guilty. I don't know how to help him. How can I give him absolution from himself? I have to try. I have to say something.

"You did everything you could. You made a mistake, but you did everything you could to fix it, and…." I grasp at things to say to him, anything that will fix him. He cuts me off when he speaks again. The coldness in his voice chills me. I shiver, but he doesn't notice. He's too lost in his own pain.

"William Dunne said we were the same, me and him, and I argued with him. I was sure I was better, better than him, but when it gets down to it we _are_ the same. The only difference between us is that I had to go to Medical School to learn how to kill people, but he…."

"You are not the same as him!" The vehemence in the words shocks even me, but it doesn't raise Derek's eyes from his feet. He continues to stare at the ground, but I do get another wince from him. I can't believe he's just stood there and compared himself to a serial killer, but I've forgotten how hung over he is, I lower my voice. "You can't seriously believe that what you did was the same as William." I shake my head; the idea of what he's saying is incredible to me. "William deliberately murdered 5 people Derek; he deliberately set out to kill five people, but you…"

"Did you not see how many files there were in that conference room, how many cases were in those files? There were dozens Meredith, literally dozens. Five compared to dozens doesn't mean…."

"But you didn't set out to have any of them die. They came to you for help and you tried to save them, you tried to fix them, you tried to do the right thing."

A sound comes out of Derek, something twisted, almost like a laugh, but not. He shakes his head and then he looks at me again, his eyes filled with something dark, like a secret he's kept inside for too long. I know that look well because I used to have it. "Yes, I tried to do the right thing, but that's it, isn't it? Whatever I do, whatever I say, I get it wrong, I fail, I'm a failure."

"You're not, you…" I have to swallow before I can speak clearly. I don't understand what he's talking about. I have to get myself together before I can talk. "You're not a failure, you're an extraordinary surgeon, I mean, look at all the people you've…."

That sound comes out of his mouth again, the one that sounds like it wants to be a laugh, but is too disgusted with itself to manage it. "I'm not just talking about the surgeries; I'm talking about everything, all of it. I'm a failure."

As he speaks he takes his eyes off me, he looks over my shoulder and focuses on the city and the water beneath us. Suddenly I get the feeling this isn't about Jen anymore, not completely. I wait for him to go on. He doesn't look at me when he speaks again.

"When Addison was here she told me that when she left she had to put me in a little box just so she could get out of bed in the morning."

For a second I'm glad he's not looking at me. Something deep down wants to say that I didn't sleep in the car all night just to end up talking about his ex-wife, but then I remember the times when I've been without him, when he was with Addison, when he was with Rose, and I say nothing. I realise I had a little box of my own to put him in and I did, but Addison and Rose are not here anymore. I'm the one who got to keep him, and though I know he hasn't said it yet, he hasn't said sorry for all the things he said last night, I know he wants me here.

"With Rose I let her think something could happen with us, that it could be something, when I knew all along it couldn't, that I could never…"

He stops talking and I watch as his Adam's apple flexes upwards in this throat as he swallows, before rolling back again. Listening to him talk about Rose is not so bad now. Hearing him say he knew it would never go anywhere reminds me of Finn, how I strung him along, letting him think he might have a chance when I knew he never would. It reminds me of how I made Finn and Derek compete for me, even though the competition could never have been equal. I want to tell him that he doesn't have the monopoly on making stupid decisions, but he's talking again, lost in everything he's feeling.

"Even my own family, I left New York and didn't even really tell them why. I thought they'd taken Addison's side, and even…" I know whose name he wants to say but he can't seem to make it form on his lips. He gives up. "All I could think about was I needed to get away from it, from _them_, so I just left and they found out what happened from Addison. They didn't know all of it. They didn't know because I walked away."

I want to tell him that I understand, that I get it, but I don't. I don't get what it's like to grow up in a family, a house full of people you share things with. I grew up with two parents who fought, and then with a mother who was hardly ever there. The only thing I can imagine is how I would feel if he disappeared without a word, or at least not much more than a phone call. I'm surprised at how even the thought makes me feel sick.

"And then there's you."

Derek's voice cuts across my thoughts. I jump a little, almost startled, when I see that he's looking at me again. He's looking right into my eyes. It's like he can see right in to me. I look back, seeing everything in his eyes, weariness, pain, sadness, fear and guilt, lots of guilt. I really do want to stop him, but there's something about him that stops me. He needs to say it.

"I've failed you over and over. When we first met I let you think I was free. That first night I told myself it didn't matter, that it was just one night and I would never see you again. When I saw you at the hospital and you tried to brush me off I wouldn't let it go, but I still couldn't tell you all of it, because it would have meant having to face what had happened and I couldn't do that. Later, when you gave in and said you'd go out with me, I convinced myself it was all right, that Addison would never find me, so you didn't need to know about her. Even when you wanted to know things I still kept it hidden, I was scared of telling you, scared of having to face it, scared you'd leave me if you knew I was married."

I listen to what Derek is saying. It's hard to listen to him going over the past, but I can't make myself stop him. As much as I know he isn't the only one who has made mistakes, I also know that facing up to the mistakes, facing up to the past, makes facing the future a hell of a lot less terrifying.

"Eventually I knew I had to tell you, but I could never find the words. Addison kept sending me messages and I knew she was getting closer to finding me, but still, I couldn't make myself say it. Then, when I finally got the guts to tell you, Addison turned up. She turned up and announced herself before I'd got chance to even tell you she existed, and I just…."

Derek stops for a moment again. He still hasn't taken his eyes off me. I can tell from their expression that he wants to, he would love to be able to look away, pretend he hasn't opened his mouth and run back to the trailer, but he doesn't. He starts talking again.

"When I went back to her I knew it was wrong, I knew I was kidding myself and that the marriage was over. I knew when you stood in that scrub room and asked me to be with you that I didn't want Addison anymore, not like I should have done, but instead of facing that and doing what I wanted, doing the right thing, I was a coward. I knew I was wrong, but I did it anyway, because I couldn't face the fact that the marriage failed partly because of me, because I didn't try, and the reason I didn't try was because I'd stopped loving her. I couldn't face up to being the one who ended my marriage so I stayed, but I still couldn't leave you alone, couldn't let you get on with your life and be happy. It was like I wouldn't let myself be with you but I couldn't stand not being with you, so when you met Finn and seemed to be moving on, it hurt. For the first time in my life I was jealous. I said things to you I should never have said, and I did things…..That night at the prom I saw you with him and I couldn't stand it. I danced with Addison to torment you and when you walked out I had to follow you. I told myself I was checking on you, making sure you were all right, but it was a lie. I knew exactly what I went after you for. It wasn't just the sex, it was you, being near you, touching you. I knew I had no right, I was still married and you had moved on, but I didn't care. All I thought about was what I wanted, what made me happy, but when Addison and I finally ended it and got the divorce, I couldn't commit. I thought I needed space, I never thought that I might be sending you a signal that I still hadn't made up my mind, and then when I finally did I tried to push you back to where we were before, before Addison turned up. I thought all I had to do was come back and it would be like I'd never gone. I expected you to just trust me, even though I'd shown you time and time again that I didn't deserve your trust."

When Derek stops speaking again my head is spinning. He's just reeled off all our history, the mess, the lies, the going back and forth, and he's blamed himself for all of it. I get what he's doing, I really do, but I can't let him. I can't let him think that everything we've been through has been his fault. I know I've made mistakes too.

"You can't take the blame for all of it." I say the words softly, wanting to touch him but being unable to. After everything he's said and the way he's looking at me, if I touch him I'll cry, and I can't, not until I've got through to him. "What about the S&M, all the times you've tried to help me and I've pushed you away, what about when I drowned and..."

"If I'd behaved like your boss that day and not your boyfriend you wouldn't even have been near the water, it would never have happened!"

For the first time since the night before Derek is yelling, and suddenly I get it. This isn't just about Jen. It's about us, all the mistakes we've made, all the damage we've done. Derek is devastated by what happened to Jen, but he's using it to take all the blame for every problem we've had, and as much as I know he's made mistakes, and he has hurt me, I know I am responsible for some of it too.

"If you'd stopped me going in to work that day I would have told you to go to hell and I would have gone in anyway, you know I would." He doesn't agree with me, I know because he's focusing on the city again, not on me. "I would have gone in and it would probably have still happened. Look, I fell in the water, I fell, but then, instead of fighting like hell to get out I gave up. I should have fought, I know now I should have fought, but..."

"You gave up because I wasn't supportive enough, I was too busy concentrating on things that don't even matter to think about you and...."

"I gave up because of me Derek! I gave up in the water because of me, it was my choice and it was stupid, but it was because of me and the fact that just for a second I didn't know what the point was! It was me because I had no respect for my life or for how other people would feel if I..."

"I wasn't even allowed to treat you when we got you to the hospital. I had to sit there for hours while Bailey and the Chief worked on you. I wanted to be in there, I told them I needed to be in there, but they kept me out, they kept me away from you."

I really can't bear this. I realise now that the one thing I've never considered is Derek not being part of the trauma team after I drowned, and how not being able to do something would make him feel. Derek is a neurosurgeon. Almost by the definition of the job he needs to feel in control. He needs to feel he's doing something. Now I can see the day Jen died in a whole new way. I can see Derek in the O.R. trying to fix a mistake he knew he'd made, but as Jen worsens I can see Derek beginning to panic. I remember his breathing, how fast it was. He was almost hyperventilating. It kills me to think of him in that state because of me, because of what I did, but I know I can't undo it. I can't wipe away the fact that I gave up in the water any more than Derek can go back and not nick Jen's aneurism. We've both made mistakes, we have to find a way of living with them.

"I came back because of you." I say the words and let them hang there.

"What?" Derek's eyes are wide. He's staring at me. He looks like I've hit him over the head with something heavy. I want to laugh at the look on his face but I can't. I'm sure he's holding his breath.

My mind goes back to that day, being in the water, fighting and then just letting go. I know I can't tell Derek all of it, he'd think I was crazy, but I can tell him why I came back.

"I came back when I drowned because of you, because I wanted you, because I realised all my issues and all the crap didn't mean anything and…"

"And I behaved like an idiot to you, following you around and then when you told me I was hovering I pushed you away, told you I didn't know if I wanted to keep breathing for you, oh God…"

Derek's face crumples. I have to stop him. I can't let him cry, not over this, not now.

"No, you were scared, and I pushed too. I lied to you, told you I wanted to be better, and then I pushed you away even more, because I was scared too. You told me I was the love of your life and I broke up with you, but I couldn't stay away, I pushed you into the S&M when I knew it wasn't enough for you."

"I tried to rush you, I tried to force your hand with the house plans. I used Rose to get to you."

"I pushed you into the clinical trial, I made you do it even though I knew you didn't want to, so some of the deaths have been my fault. Your death count wouldn't have been so high without the clinical trial."

Derek shakes his head almost violently. "I'm an Attending, I could have said no, I could have refused to do it, but I let my ego get in the way, just like I always do."

I watch Derek as he speaks. It's like he's curled in on himself and he doesn't know how to get out of the mess. I look at him and I suddenly see what we've just been doing. We're arguing about who's done what to who, who's the most to blame, but the point is, neither of us are. We both made mistakes, we've both done stupid things.

I take a deep breath. I know what I'm going to say next will hurt him but I can't not tell him.

"I went to counselling…..When you were with Rose I went to counselling."

The reaction is obvious. He looks like he hates himself. He inhales sharply, the air whistling through his teeth, then he runs his hand through his hair while his mouth forms words he can't seem to get out. It takes him a minute to be able to speak again, and when he does his voice is shaking.

"You see, that's it. I screwed you up so badly you needed counselling!"

I shake my head firmly, looking straight at him. I want to touch him again but still I wait.

"I went to counselling because I was a mess. Sure, it was partly because of us, but it was mostly because of me, because of my mother and all the crap I've been running away from for years. You're not responsible for everything that's happened Derek. It's like Dr. Wyatt said, I used to sit there and wait for you to make a mistake just so I could quit, well I'm not quitting any more, you can say what you like to me, I'm not quitting."

"But it's not that simple is it? I've made mistake after mistake, I've hurt you over and over again. You can't just let me hurt you and just say you're not quitting."

I can see all the doubt in his eyes. I know he thinks I should walk away and give up on him. It's written all over his face. I can see I'm going to have to convince him.

"I'm not saying you haven't hurt me, I'm not even saying you're not responsible for some of the mess we made, but I made mistakes too, I hurt you too, but we can't go back and change it, we have to live with it. If there's one thing I've learned it's that I'd rather deal with our mistakes with you than run from them without you, so I'm not quitting."

There are thousands of emotions on Derek's face. It's a mix of everything. Sadness, pain, guilt, a whole load of other stuff I can see he's trying to understand.

"After what I said to you last night you shouldn't want to be here, you should want to quit, I don't understand why you…."

"It's what you do when you love someone Derek, you don't quit."

He seems to be thinking about it, taking the words in. Then, before I can move or think or do anything, he's pulled me to him and he's holding me in his arms. My face is buried in his chest, surrounded by the fleece jacket he's wearing. I can barely breath, he smells of stale booze and sweat and a number of other things that I really don't want to think about too much, but I wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

After several long minutes when all I can hear is Derek's heartbeat, he speaks.

"I can't believe what I said to you last night. I was stupid and cruel and….Since we got back together you've shown me over and over again that you want me, but I still turned around and said that to you. Meredith I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry."

Derek holds me tighter as he talks. I can feel him trembling with the force of them, with how much he means it. I run my hands as far up his back as I can reach. He sighs against me. Then I pull away from him a little.

"The ring was beautiful."

Derek sighs more heavily. The expression is sad, regretful.

"Mom gave it to me when she was here. She said my Dad wanted me to have it. He wanted me to give it to the right girl."

I can't help the question that comes out. I met Derek's Mom so fast, too fast really. I wouldn't have been surprised if she'd thought I was some sort of freak. Does she really think I'm the one for Derek?

"Did she mean it for me? You're sure she didn't mean to give it to Addison and just forgot it? I mean, I put things away all the time and forget where they are, then I'll go into a drawer for something and there it is and…"

"She meant it for you, just for you." Derek smiles for the first time in days, then it's gone, as fast as it appeared. "She meant it for you and I…oh Meredith."

I can see he's remembering last night when he tossed my ring away with a baseball bat. I make a decision. It might be crazy, it might even be hopeless, but I'm doing it anyway. I pull away from him, but before he can react I grab his hand and drag him to where the baseball bat is lying on the ground.

"What are you doing?" He's looking at me like he thinks any second now I'm going to pick up the bat and whack him with it.

"We're going to find my ring, come on." I let go of his hand and start taking careful steps, all the time looking down at the ground, searching.

"We'll never find it, it's gone. You should give it up." He calls after me, his voice defeated, worn, as if there's no hope. In the past it would have been enough. I would have given up and that would have been it. Damn it, in the past I wouldn't have cared where the ring had ended up. Well now I do. It's mine.

I turn on the spot and face him. He's still standing beside the baseball bat. "I built you a house of candles, you told me you want my crappy babies with my crappy DNA, so now I'm telling you Derek Shepherd, I want my ring. I want THAT ring. So get your ass over here and help me find it."

He looks at me, and I know he seriously thinks I've gone crazy. He looks like he's thinking about how fast he can book me back in with Dr. Wyatt. "You're sure you want it, I mean you know what it is don't you, it's not just a ring, it's…."

"Mine." I finish for him.

He hesitates again for just a second. It's like he can't believe what he's heard. Then, slowly, he begins to walk, taking careful steps, his eyes, like mine, almost pinned to the ground.

We search for what seems like hours. Then, just when it seems hopeless and I think Derek is going to say something about giving up again, my foot lands on something. I look down and see something shining in the grass. My heart begins to race so hard it makes my chest hurt. By this time Derek is just in front of me, his long strides, even if he's moving slowing, outpacing me.

"Derek…Look."

Derek turns and walks slowly back to me. I can tell he doesn't think for a second I've found it. He's persuaded himself it's gone, a lost cause. He's probably thinking about how the hell he's going to tell his mother he lost a ring his Dad wanted him to have.

He stops in front of me and I know he can see it too. He looks at me, he looks at the ring, then he looks back at me. Then he goes down on his knees and carefully, gently, as if he's handling a delicate nerve in a spinal surgery, he picks it up. He holds it in his palm as if he can't quite believe it. Then, as he looks at it, I see his eyes fill. He grips the ring as if his life depends on it as he falls forward on his knees, one hand flat on the ground, the other holding the ring. His shoulders start to heave and I know he's crying. Without thinking about it I go down onto my knees and put my arms around him. He sobs into the ground for a while, his head low, like he's trying to hide the tears, but then a louder sob rips from his throat, as if its been stuck inside him for days, and he reaches for me.

I let Derek cry, stroking his back, his hair, anywhere I can reach. I know he hasn't proposed yet, but I know he will. Maybe when all of this is over, the lawsuit, and he has dealt with Jen's death, and everything else he's blaming himself for. He knows now that when he does propose I'll say yes, because I won't quit on him again, not now, not ever. We're in this together now and we won't quit.

**A/N Well, there we are. I hope you liked it, though I'm sure it's too long to be a one shot really, but it is. I just really feel that there is a lot more to this with Derek than we are seeing. It's clearly a way of showing Meredith won't run anymore, but I think it's also showing Derek's flaws, his weaknesses, his way of dealing with guilt and failure. I just don't believe for a second it's all about the death of a patient. Sure, Derek feels guilty about that, of course he does, but I also think he feels guilty about Meredith and completely unworthy of her, and it's this I wanted to show. I hope you've enjoyed it and I really hope you'll review. **


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